


For You

by celestial_light



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Angst, Arkham Asylum, F/M, What-If, post-murray death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 21:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_light/pseuds/celestial_light
Summary: The worst part of it all is that he thinks she was a hallucination.OrWhat if Sophie and Arthur were in a relationship, but because of his hallucinations, Arthur thinks they were never together.





	For You

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially, this is a what-if. Really, for all we know Arhtur and Sophie’s relationship could have been real. He is such an unreliable narrator, that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. So i’m claiming it. He hallucinated his hallucination :D

Sophie never liked hospitals. Well never was such an  _ absolute  _ word, and Sophie was anything but absolute. There were exceptions, of course. The birth of her daughter was the first one that came to mind. As much as the pristine  _ white  _ walls, reeking of alcohol and sanitizer had nausiated her, she’d driven herself to the hospital the moment her labor pains started and hadn’t regretted it since. 

She may’ve hated hospitals, but she wanted her daughter to brought into the world safely. 

There was Mrs. Fleck too. She hadn’t hesitated to leave Lily with her sister and make the silent drive to the hospital the evening Arthur had told her about his mother’s stroke. She may’ve hated hospitals, but she hated the thought of Arthur dealing with the passing of his mother more alone. 

Arkham Asylum was no different. And she may’ve  _ despised  _ it more so than she had the others, because if they’d done their job maybe, just maybe Arthur wouldn’t be locked up. Maybe he wouldn’t have murdered Murray on live TV (Mur- _ ray  _ as she called it him now, unable to get Arthur’s pronunciation of it out of her head), and maybe Lily could stop  _ asking  _ when Arhtur would come back home. 

And Sophie wouldn’t have to tell Lily that he had believed he hallucinated all of it. That the night Sophie had found him drenched in rain sitting on the couch had been as real as her foot steps clicking against the tiles of Arkham every weekend, had been as real as the first day they’d looked at each other in the elevator. 

But that somehow Arthur had thought it wasn’t. And by the time Sophie had returned with a towel, he’d vanished. 

It had been almost five months since everything before she was allowed to see him. She’d gone in with so many emotions, amongst them anger and confusion. Anger at being left that evening, holding a towel and staring blankly at the wet spot on her couch. Confusion at the man who’d gracefully stepped onto Murray’s show with a sort of perfection Arthur Fleck could never have pull off in his life. 

And with a stern look from the orderly and a list of what she could and couldn’t do when in the cell with Arthur, she’d stepped into his room. Whatever she’d felt before had simmered down considerably when she’d caught his gaze. She had to fight to catch it though. It was hidden behind a curtain of greasy, green hair, and Arhtur did his best to avoid Sophie’s brown eyes. 

“Arthur…” she breathed, her worry evident in the way in which her voice trembled, “It’s me.” 

There was no recognition when he finally looked at her. Only  _ fear.  _ What did Arhur have to fear Sophie for. 

  
She moved without thinking, her resolve crumbling as the man sitting across from her looked at her with such an alien expression. Suddenly her hand was on the table right beside him, her body having gravitated itself towards him.    
  


“Hey, Arthur, it’s me, Soph--” she was met with the skidding of the chair, Arhtur topping over as Sophie inserted herself in his personal space. She had cursed under her breath. Arthur was always a guarded man, and he valued his personal space very much, especially when it came to people he didn’t know. 

  
Usually he wouldn’t have a problem with Lillie plopping her small body over his, or Sophie wrapping her arms around his thin frame. But that was before  _ this.  _

There may’ve been a fit that followed or screaming, all Sophie knew was that she was pulled out roughly and a team of orderlies stepped in to deal with Arthur. 

Sometime later, when she sat in the waiting room defeated, the psychiatrist had told her everything she needed to know about his reaction. She must have looked devastated for the doctor to spill the beans on one of her patients. That, or Arthur wasn’t even granted basic privacy anymore. Regardless, she’d left the hospital feeling worse than she had before. 

_ Amnesia. Hallucinations. Forgotten. Not Real.  _ The doctor had told her,  _ he doesn’t think anything between you two actually happened. It’s not real to him.  _

And so began her ritual. Every weekend, after work, Sophia forced herself to go to Arkham. Lillie had gotten to stay with friends while Sophie had spent half the day working with Arthur, or Joker as they had called him. 

Working on his memory, on his “rehabilitation”on anything that would undo the wrong that he’d done to Gotham (thought Sophie often argued that there was no wrong that was done, only a necessary evil. It was just a shame Arthur had to be the one to deliver it). There were instances in which he looked at her, and a look of realization flashed through his eyes. And suddenly she was in the elevator again, pointing a finger-gun at her head, looking at Arthur and feeling the happiest she had in years. 

And then as soon as it was there, it was gone. 

But the fact that it was there to begin with made this worth it. And Sophie  _ hated  _ hospitals, and Arkham was no different. But for Arthur, she’d go. And because of Arthur, maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ hospitals weren’t that bad. 


End file.
